


Pink Privilege in The Blue Hills

by StrangeBint



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Gilmore Girls
Genre: Angry Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking the Bed, Class Issues, Cuddling & Snuggling, Desk Sex, Engagement, F/M, Families of Choice, Friendship/Love, Future Fic, Happy Sex, Identity Issues, Light Angst, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Meeting the Parents, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Philosophy, Romance, Spanking, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-12 21:05:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9090754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangeBint/pseuds/StrangeBint
Summary: Between them Rory and Connor had everything, but only they could give each other a life with real choices. But first they had to deal with a few family issues.Now edited for more hot fun and less babble!Chapter 1: Life and lead up to romanceChapter 2: Sex, Philosophy, and Boy Bands (See tags)Chapter 3: SEX (See tags)Chapter 4: Facing Lorelei and other surprise guestsMore to come: How will Emily Gilmore react to surprise guests? Rory/Connor Spike/Faith surprises. Buffy & Angel are not the center of the universe.





	1. Chapter 1

Pink Privilege in The Blue Hills

            “Everyone is just going to hate read this in their world of first world problems,” Rory watched her own dark eyebrows rise on her pale forehead on the FaceTime screen. “Why do I do this to myself?”

            She looked back at Lane’s never-changing perfect round face and glasses on the screen. Lane was in her Jamaica Plain, Boston home.

            “Because you’re a genius writer with a unquenchable desire for justice for the underdog?” Lane suggested, “I don’t recommend it. It’s not in.”

            “What’s not in? Being a genius or an unquenchable desire for the underdog thing?”  

            “Both,” Lane said, “Haven’t you kept up on current events?”

            “I’m a journalist. I just published an article suggesting that a troubled teen is innocent of multiple hate crimes despite piles of circumstantial evidence. So, I’m clearly not a genius at all. It’s why I called you, remember? To see if I have trolls.”

            “Ugh, Hang on,” Lane said as Rory heard Nico cry. Lane put down the phone down and went to her crying baby. Rory could see a framed Sleater Kinney poster and a bunch of dishes in the sink.

            Rory was in her grandparent’s living room. It still smelled like expensive Cherie and wood polish. It was so funny how all her old feelings rushed in, the anxiety that fluttered occasionally in her chest. The sense of pride that kept her spine straight. The excitement that made her lips pull-up. Rory was her runaway mother’s daughter _and_ couldn’t wait to tell her grandparents about her accomplishments. Once again, she remembered her grandfather was dead as well as this new problem and felt so stupid.

             Her phone’s screen flashed a text above Lane’s kitchen : Connor: _I found a big secret up in here. ;)_

Rory’s stomach dropped and she rose from the couch. She looked around in the parlor as if whatever he had found would jump out at her. She did this realizing if he was texting it probably wasn’t a physical threat. She still couldn’t stop herself from the panic. Connor wasn’t taking this seriously. Rory didn’t have the privileged of being so relaxed.

She texted back: _What? What is it??? I thought we knew everything. Let me get off the phone with Lane._

            Maybe she should just hang up on Lane and go and find him, but that was so rude. Lane was so busy and doing her a favor. She stood up from the stiff Victorian couch when Connor texted back:

            _Don’t. This is one of YOUR secrets. I’m the one with the questions, but I can wait…_

Rory bit her lip when laughter carried up from the basement. The new gardener was trying to seduce the new maid.

            “Take a ride with me. No one will know. Girl’s got her boyfriend upstairs and hours before the she-demon comes back.”

            It didn’t matter how old Rory was. In her grandmother’s house she’d always be a girl. If Rory was like all the girls she went to school with she’d take pleasure in going down there and firing both of them. Her _she demon_ grandmother would do that anyway soon enough. Outside Rory could see off into the hills of Blue Hills, Hartford. The sun was setting against the bare winter trees. The maid’s response was a sultry laugh.

            Rory sat back on the couch stiffly and hit the keys on her screen and sent them: _I’m working, Connor, and apparently I’m the only one here doing it!_

            “In this outfit? I’m not into cost-play,” the maid said.

            “Sure you are,” Rory heard the gardener, “You’re wearing it, aren’t you?”

            “It’s my job, asshole.” The maid had a sultry voice that made Rory want to blush for overhearing it.

           “You’re going to let an outfit keep you in your place?” The gardener was taunting.

            Rory realized her grandmother required her maids to wear the French maid’s outfit. She wondered if the maid was cold in basement. It was somewhat degrading, wasn’t it? Rory never thought about how many women she’d seen wear that outfit here over the years. There were so many things she never noticed or thought about as a teen when her grandparents agreed to help her with prep school. Her earliest memories were of her own mother wearing the inn’s cleaning uniform with a certain pride.

            “…hands off my ass or I’ll get you for harassment,” that’s what Rory could hear of the maid’s whisper. Then she laughed as the gardener whispered something inaudible. Rory decided the maid was no damsel in distress. Maybe she wouldn’t even quit in a week like most of her grandmother’s maids.

            Her mother’s uniform had been a pantsuit with a flowery smock that made her look like a maroon shapeless statue of a woman. But, maybe that was just from a child’s eyes. Had her mother ever played a part in a sleazy version of Downtown Abby? Did she have a choice? Her mother couldn’t quit the inn, not unless she wanted to come back here. Rory’s phone buzzed again. Rory crossed her legs.

            Connor: _I am working. Work looks a lot different in the digital age. Secrets and lies are my work. So you don’t you want to know what I found?_

She texted back: _No and I know what working looks like in the digital age because I’m actually doing it right now._

Connor: _You’re stressing, talking to Lane._

Rory felt her forehead knot. She was yelling at him about their jobs through a text while he was upstairs. That was way too millennial married couple.

            “Back,” Lane was breathless as her face rushed into Rory’s screen, “So, you have no trolls yet. Just complaints that the paper is too liberal, but nothing personal. Nothing hateful or demonic.”

            “Lane,” Rory said, “Thanks for doing this. I know I could look at it myself but—“

            She was embarrassed. Rory was stressing.

            “But who needs that stress? And it gives me something exciting to do between breast-feeding. ” Lane leaned into the screen dramatically, “Speaking of exciting, spill the tea, girl? Are you calling me during the integration? Who cracked first? Connor? Your mom? Your grandmother? My money is on--”

            “The dinner hasn’t started yet,” Rory said, “My mom isn’t going to be here and my grandmother is not going to be here until later.”

            They had two and a half hours. Her grandmother was getting her hair done. She had accommodated her hairdresser when something came up during their regular appointment, though it was an inconvenience. Rory was tracking her grandmother’s phone just in case there were any surprises.

            “What do you mean your mom isn’t going to be there?” Lane said, “Isn’t she like your shield whenever you—“

            “Lane, I’m thirty,” Rory said, “I can take care of myself and my boyfriend with my grandmother. My mom doesn’t need to be in the middle of… whatever is coming.”

            “If you showed up early to do it in every room in the house I don’t recommend it. You’re grandmother is too much like my mother, she’d know somehow. She probably wouldn’t push the bible on you, but she’d do whatever it is she does. Make that face. Torture your mother about how--”

            “No one is going to hurt my mom!” Rory said too snippily and then calmed herself, “and I’m too annoyed at Connor for any sex as much as he’s trying. I mean, really this is the worst time and place for…”

            She trailed off and brushed her bangs back as she saw they were a bit off in the little FaceTime screen.

            “Rory,” Lane said after swallowing some tea from a Misfits mug. “He’s a guy. Don’t expect him to be too perfect just because his music, movie and book taste is.”

            “I’m not. I don’t-- I just—I just can’t afford-- He just has to be… ” Rory stammered as she looked towards the grad staircase Connor had climbed.

            “...perfect tonight for three hours when he meets your grandmother,” Lane completed, “I know how it is. Maybe I even know a little more. The Korean version of the Gilmore interrogation dinner lasts until you get married.”

            Lane didn’t know. She couldn’t as much as Rory wanted to tell her everything.

            “Not that I want to give you advice, but you know what happened with me,” Lane said.

            “You stood up to your parents and married him anyway and they stopped talking to you, until Nico was born.”

            “And?” Lane said

            “And now your mother puts Emil’s name on the Christmas card, which is her version of an apology. But, it’s more complicated than that, Lane. Much more.”

           “I don’t know what could be more complicated than being a bicultural Christian Korean woman who decides to marry a Jewish non-doctor musician,” Lane says, “You know, I read an article that beautiful people who look like each other are more likely to make happy couples, so I don’t want to hear about any trouble in paradise.”

            “What? We don’t look alike,” Rory said.

            “All waif-like white people with dark hair look the same to me,” Lane said.

            Rory had to laugh. It loosened her stomach. “Don’t worry, Lane. Paradise is fine. Paradise is great. Everyone loves paradise. It’s things here in Hartford that are Paradise Lost and that always makes me tense. How’s your paradise with Jewish non-doctor drummer?”

            Rory and Lane talked until after Nico woke up. Lane brought the baby out and they judged whether Nico was recognizing Rory on FaceTime or if she just though Rory was Snow White. Rory tried to hate that joke, but couldn’t.

            Once she hung up she felt so heavy and antsy. She really wished she could tell Lane everything. This is where she used to have doubts about wanting this life, a life that made her into a liar, but now…. She couldn’t think about how horrible things would have turned out if she had rejected this life. Even if she had figured all of this out she on her own Rory would have been powerless to…Rory jumped when her phone buzzed. She realized she was just staring out the front pallor window. She looked down and felt a contained burst excitement when she saw she had a whole paragraph to read. Connor was good a paragraphs. His paragraphs often gave her the same joy entire books did sometimes.

            Connor: _You’re off the phone and your mad at me and you should be. I’m sorry. You were working, so am I. Working smart taking a break. Nothing more to do right now. I DO take this seriously. I know this is scary for you but we’re going to work this out together like the amazing achievers we are. And if that doesn’t work I’m going to call my daddy and every powerful person I know in the world and beg for help._

She snorted and fell back on the couch laughing. He could read her mind. She texted.

            _I don’t know what’s more creepy, that you know I’m off the phone, or how fast you can shift your values. Where are you?_

Connor: _It’s a shifty world and I’m young creepy and valueless. You want to talk about moral relativism with me? Where would I be if to find a huge shameful secret of yours?_

            Talking about moral relativism for two hours sounded perfect to Rory and so did not talking about it. She was trying not to race up the stairs when her eye caught the oil painting of her grandfather. Her mother thought the oil paintings were awful. _Sometimes something is just so dang classy it goes all the way to crass._ She saw her mother’s point, but she secretly loved that there had been a painting of him and her. They were a tradition to when a portrait was the only way great people could be remembered.

            Rory forced herself up the rest of the stairs. One day everything here would really be gone. Lost. Maybe it was already. How would her mother really feel then? Would part of her be relieved she had the money? Would Rory?

            She stopped on the landing. How could Rory think that? What was wrong with her? The oak banister creaked as she squeezed it. She never cared that her mother had walked out on the money. It wasn’t about the money. It was about her grandparents. Her mother had walked out on them because of Rory, and she had come back for Rory.

            When she reached the top of the stairs she knew, for once, she wanted to be the one to runaway from this house. She could. She could just leave being a Gilmore behind and let the latest drama just work itself out without her for once. It wasn’t her fault, not this time. But, Rory knew she wasn’t a runner. For her just knowing she could run, and that she wouldn’t, because of who _she_ was, made her feel free.

            Rory’s bedroom door was open. Her stylish black boots were noiseless on the thick carpet, but she knew he could hear her coming long before. He could smell her. Normally, that excited her. It shouldn’t now, but it still did. Would he be able to tell? Another thing to feel bad about.

            Connor was lounging on the pale pink bedspread reading a copy of Great Expectations. His legs were crossed at the ankles. His hair fell over his collar and hung over his forehead. He looked like any guy waiting to meet the stuffy parents, or in this case grandparents, no, grandparent. Why did Rory’s brain insist on forgetting her biggest loss? Grandpa would hate his hair. Would he have treated Connor like a skinny Dean? Rory felt heartbroken that she would never know. She longed for that first world problem she could never have. Woe would have been Rory to have to explain that Connor was no Dean. Connor was no anyone, no any one man.

            The instant he had he closed Great Expectations with a thud was the same instant was across the room pressing the heat of his body into her.                

            “You have secrets in here,” he whispered, “More than one. What are you going to do about it?”

            _What are you going to do about it?_ He had asked, like he always did. Rory had always been given choices and she thought she always made the right ones. His arm was like a thin steel pipe wrapped around her waist. His long fingers cupped her face. They had one rule. No secrets. Rory never imagined it would be harder for her to follow that rule than Connor. She had always followed rules, even the unwritten ones she had decoded. They mostly let her to good places.

            Connor’s life had taken a different path, or many paths. When Connor had followed other people’s rules all it had ever led to was horrible ends. He pulled her up to match his height. His full lips almost touched her open mouth as she inhaled. He smelled like salty pennies and melted snow.

            _No one is entitled to you, Rory Gilmore. Not me. Not him. Not your family. That would be true even if you weren’t too good for all of us._

Connor told her that over the phone two years ago. He was in a loud restaurant or something, but then shut himself up in a bathroom. Later he told her was in the middle of a job, rescuing a werewolf. Rory wanted to feel like Connor was too overwhelming or too mellow dramatic for her. She never did achieve that goal.

            Now she was achieving kissing him. It was her mouth that leaned into to those pillow lips and opened them with her own.

            He smacked his lips away and looked at her. His eyes brightened his whole face as his mouth bent up to meet them. The same song lyric always goes through her head. _God, it’s so beautiful when the boy smiles_. The same sensations spread down her body.

            “Hmmm,” he whispered, “What?”

           His smile was gone, like a flash firework. His grip was fierce but the question was gentle. His opal eyes searched her face. Rory was the one who followed rules all her life and for the most part life had provided for her. One of the benefits Rory’s rule following provided was not even realizing all the good it had given her. She had always been Rory Gilmore and she always would be. It wasn’t like she even had a choice, but now she did.

            “I—I suppose I should follow the rules,” she said breathlessly.

            “You suppose you should,” he says, “but what will you do. What do you _want_ to do?”

            Rory should push him away. Tell him to wait until later. She should. There was too much else going on, and if he found a secret this would be messy. Far too messy to do in this place and time. She could easily say no. Connor wouldn’t be mad about it. He wouldn’t even say he wasn’t mad and then sulk. He wasn’t like that. Really. Rory didn’t know people like that existed before him, never mind children of vampires and demons.

            She kissed him again. She gripped the back of his neck through silky hair. The starchy collar felt odd on in her grip. Like she was in some dream where he went to her prep school and they were sixteen but not even Tristan could kiss like this at sixteen. Her tights were flooded. This room and these clothes were making her have some odd thoughts. He pulled his head away again.

            “So,” he said, “You want to seduce your way out of secret keeping?”

            There was the scenic smile again.

            “I’ve never seduced anyone in my life,” she said.

            “I’m sure you have without meaning to and that wasn’t what I asked,” he said, “I found a secret. What do you want to do?”

            She couldn’t imagine what secret Connor found up here in a room she hadn’t spent a night in for maybe a decade. Connor made her realize that she was more than one person. He gave her what people were trying to give her all her life, but never did. True choice.

            “You,” she said.

            Rory knew she should be trying harder. She could be doing more than jumping into his arms and squeezing him so hard that his buttons pressed into her. She didn’t even care if she had seduced him without meaning to. That made Rory better than all the people who had done it on purpose. She was Rory Gilmore and couldn’t be doing anything better.


	2. No Superman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SPANKING, Het Sex, Light B&D, Nihilism, and boy bands, with Rory and Connor.

    No Superman

               

            Connor had studied nature versus nurture for longer than he could stand, which was far from ten thousand hours. So, he was no expert, but he knew his stuff. He was also no slouch in studying so-called magic.

_The law of energy never being created nor destroyed remains true in most mystical arts. While desire can bend reality and metaphysics can sway existence the energy must still be taken from a source of actual existence. This is especially true in the art of memory manipulation. One cannot create a memory for a subject if the subject has no matter within himself in which he can imagine or make sense of that existence._

That was a longwinded way of saying not even the most powerful evil corporation could make Connor smart. He had to have been smart and the memories his father had them create brought out the best in him. Now the best of him had Rory Gilmore in his arms.

            “You want me,” he said, “Is that what you said?”

            She nodded as she attempted to wrap her legs around his standing form in her opaque tights and pencil skirt. “I want you. Am I being too subtle?”

            “No,” he said, “No, you’re not. Good girl.”

            Connor was eternally grateful he had superpowers when her legs stiffened and the scent of her increased. He didn’t think he could have carried her to her ridiculous pale pink bed otherwise. Not because she’d be anywhere near heavy for a normal guy but he wasn’t sure if a normal guy could keep moving with so much blood gone from his brain.

            “See,” Rory huffed in satisfaction, “I always say what I want and what I don’t. Yale not Harvard. Artisan not Starbucks. The best not the basic. You not anyone else.”

            Rory gave Connor an indignant look. She swore she was very clear about what she wanted in life. He legs were open in her opaque navy tights with her grey pencil skirt pulled up. Her white blouse was still tucked in. Connor stood before her dressed in his business causal finest to meet the Gilmore matriarch in two hours and change. Rory’s open legs and his waste made a disconnected triangle.

            “You think you tell people what you want.” He slowly took of one of her boots. “You think you’ve been good, and yet, a huge secret. Virtuous people don’t keep secrets. They don’t need to.”

            He took off her second boot. A winter wind blew outside.

            “Is my secret in here?” Rory flipped over onto her stomach and began searching through her copy of Great Expectations Connor left on the bed.

            “An angry letter from Dean? I tried really hard with him. I did, but…”

            Her voice trailed off. She contemplated her perceived failures of girlhood staring at the words of Dickens. Connor knew Rory had no idea how sexy she was. Her legs were bent up with her stocking heels pointed the celling. She was seemed like a mythical creature in this pale pink room in the middle of one of the richest suburbs in the world. She was so sexy he ached.

 

This is where he was like his father.  _Look at me all in control with my powerful self. It doesn’t matter that my control hangs by a thread destined to snap. I don’t have to believe in destiny. I am superman._

A thread is what kept him from being that needy lap dog that destroys everything, but it was a strong thread, like one of Superman’s hairs.

            If Connor were like his father he’d stop what he was doing with Rory right now. He’d remind her of what was at stake.

            “Rory.” Connor bent down and grabbed the copy of Great Expectations in the width of his hand.

            “Stop looking elsewhere for answers and see what’s in front of you.” But, even Connor’s best self was far from Superman. He threw Great Expectations across the room. But, he wasn’t like Angel, not when he was good, and as it turned out, not when he was bad. Connor knew the limits of his control.

            “You threw my book!” she gasped.

            “Look,” he said, “You kept a secret.”

            He pointed to the walls. A pimpled frosted tipped Justin Timberlake stared back at him.

            “You threw my book,” Rory said in a semblance of anger now.

            “You said you wanted this. You said you wanted these rules and now I come here and find out you lied to me.”

            Rory flinched and her eyes went to the floor. The only noise a human could hear would be the clatter of pots and pans as the cook made dinner far off on the first story of the mansion. But, Connor could hear the mummers of the maid and the cable guy or whoever he was supposed to be. They didn’t have to even pretend to work because the boss was out. He could smell their smoke in the basement as dusk settled outside.

            But, none of that mattered now because Connor could hear Rory’s breathing change and her heartbeat quicken. Almost anyone could make her feel guilty about anything for a moment.

            “I didn’t lie,” she said, “You threw my book. I never said I wanted books thrown.”

            But, a moment later she would be indigent knowing she had done no wrong and she was as steady and stable as a hundred pound mountain you couldn’t move.

            Connor was very good at seeing patterns. It didn’t matter what they were, scent, blood, calculus, moods. But, Rory Gilmore had thrown a wrench into all of that. Connor knew that he, and his people, could usually date an outsider (or an insider) for about six months. Then a huge bomb would drop. It didn’t have to always be a deadly toxic bomb, but there was usually a bomb.

            “You keep gesturing to the walls. Is it my half an upper class life? That was never a secret.” Rory insisted.

            When Connor was first with Rory he lost track. He hadn’t even realized he and Rory had been dating for six months. At first he hadn’t even realized they had been dating. She was a reporter from New Haven. Yes, Rory haughtily informed him, there were still reports in the world. Yes, even in New Haven. Yale was in New Haven, thank you very much.

            Rory was the kind of person Connor avoided at Stanford. Those A-types that pretended that they were chill, but they were just chill compared to the other A-types ,who ended up in a corporate scandal or a mad scientist lab. The ones who burned out like suicidal/homicidal flames before thirty. Connor could see their patterns. He couldn’t see Rory’s.

            “Really?” Connor said in Rory’s old room now.

            Rory hawed. She slid off the bed and walked across the puce-puke-pink carpet to pick up Great Expectations and carefully placed it on the test next to an old pink Imac and a Hello Kitty pencil holder with feathery pens.

            “You’re doing this?” he put on his best stern grumble.

            “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Rory said as she dusted off the desk.

            Rory was a terrible liar even when she was telling the truth. If anything was on her conscious even the truth flustered her.

            “You know your pattern,” Connor said, “You keep a secret. You act like you have no idea what I’m talking about, and then you pretend to get mad at some trivial thing, so you don’t have to feel guilty.”

            Connor was a very good liar. He had to be. His lying led to good in the world. Lying most of the time, to most of the people, about most things could be a twisted virtue. His lies had saved many lives. Way more than they had taken. But, he knew ultimately lying for too long, to all the people, all the time, about all things, would only lead to all bad.

            “No matter how guilty I ever am books are never trivial, Connor.”

             _Sweetly pugnacious,_ that was what Raj, Connor’s PA, called Rory Gilmore. She had wanted to interview Connor about the Ap. Not just someone, Connor Reilly, because clearly the Bakersfield, CA born Stanford grad was behind the Ap. How could the Ap predict violence so well? Was it really predicting violence so well? How could they claim there was going to be violence somewhere when they always seemed to be there to stop it? Was this all just an echo chamber affect? Why didn’t he sell it? Why didn’t he make millions? Why did he work with such a small team?

            Rory wrote the story. Connor was mad about it. He yelled at her calling her an out of touch liberal. She called him a hipster. Rory slept with him claiming she was having a late-bloomer wild phase. Then he found himself flying to see her. Then she was doing it to see him. He didn’t realize it had been six months.

            “I’m sorry,” Connor said now, “I went too far. I’ll never hurt another book again, but this isn’t about me.”

            Connor had gotten cocky. Pride was his sin. Not even realizing the timing Connor thought he was dropping the bomb himself. He wanted to control the damage. Connor showed Rory vampires. Connor had a whole speech prepared about how Rory could  _not_  tell the world. How she  _had_ to lie and how this wasn’t about  _post-truth climate._ This was about safety and not yelling  _fire_  in a crowded building that had always had a slow burning fire that caught some people. Yelling  _fire_  would only cause trampling. When Connor started his speech Rory stopped him saying:

_“No, the world already knows what it wants to. If I reported it nothing would change, would it? It would be normalized. I’m aware of the flaws of my field.”_

            Connor thought then maybe he couldn’t see Rory’s patterns because she was perfect.

            “Believe me I know how flawed I am.” Rory looked down at her stocking feet now, “My mother ran away from this life, and I made her run back because I wanted it. I did, or at least half of it and now…”

            Connor crossed the space between them and squeezed Rory’s shoulders.

            “Rory,” he said, “None of this is your fault. You know that, right? If everything goes right Lorelei won’t even have to know.”

            “So, I keep major secrets from my mother now. I rationalized not telling her things that didn’t affect her life was okay. She’s my best friend. I know you think that’s weird but—“

            “Yeah, so weird. I had three moms. Only one is still alive. We don’t even want to get into my relationships with them. ” Connor said with a smile. “I have three dads and technically only one is alive and didn’t help me kill things. But, you, you are the huge weirdo.”

            “I know I have no right to complain,” she said, “I know I owe you and your family for—“

            “We’re just doing what we do, but—“

            “No,” she said, “You’re going above and beyond your duty. I feel like I’m corrupting the most moral people in a Kantian sense. You should never disrupt duty.”

             _So much for the Connecticut girl’s reality being shattered and you holding her in your lean manly arms._  That was Faith after hearing of Rory’s reaction to vampires. Connor realized that was how he wanted it to go. He wanted her to be shattered and he wanted to be the hero.

            Connor was ashamed. Ashamed and relieved when Rory told Connor he didn’t have to tell her all of it until he was ready. He obviously still had secrets.

             _Yep, just like his dad._ The other one said.  _That’s how he buggers it up every time. Being the hero isn’t about them, it’s about you. Maybe you think the world needs another hero. Maybe it’s an Irish guilt thing. But what does she need?_

            If only it had been so simple as an Irish guilt thing that night she almost died. It had really been more of a gluttonous thing. They had wanted coffee milkshakes in the middle of the night. Rory swore nothing helped jet-lag like a coffee milkshake. Connor knew Faith was there before the demon. He hadn’t even smelled the demon. He just thought Faith had been tailing them to meet Rory.

             _Run, baby, run._

 

_I can’t, but thank you. I think I know who you are, thank you._  Rory’s eyes shutting after gratitude would be forever burned into every one of his memories. That and the fairy thing.

            “I want you to know how much I appreciate this,” Rory said now, “I don’t want anyone to risk too much tonight. I can handle whatever happens. You have to do what’s right.“

            Her blue eyes blazed in the lamp and sunset light. She had to know what she was doing to him on some level. What she was doing to him dropping Kant like it was nothing while pursing her pink glossy lips in those tights.

            “I have to do what’s right,” Connor said and Rory’s dewy eyes snap back up at him. “You know how I feel about Kant. There are no moral absolutes ordered good is bullshit. You have to be slave/master good and if you’re not your punished.”

            Rory gave him a defiant Kewpie doll smirk.

            “Maybe if you hadn’t gone to the Ivy League safety school you would know what really Nietzsche meant when he talked about  _master_  slave morality. It wasn’t about punishment. If—“

            That’s it. Connor was done. He pulled her in and kissed her. She was so warm and alive. He didn’t want to stop, but he did.

            “That’s it. You’re done,” he said. He grabbed Rory not too firmly by her wrist and led her to the bed. He sat down on it and stood her in front of him.

            He could hear and feel her pulse quicken. Smell her thighs moisten. It was good to have all the privileges of being a vampire with none of the downsides.

            “What do you want, Rory?”

            She bent down to his head. Her forehead was hot against his.

            “You know.”

            “Tell me.”

            “To be good and if I’m not…” her whisper trailed off.

            “Well then, pull down your school girl tights.”

            “What? These aren’t—“ She looked down at her slim legs. “Oh, I guess I could see how they are. Why? What did I do?”

            A car drove by outside. Rory looked towards the window. When she straightened to look at her phone on the desk he stopped her by taking both her hands.

           “Are you going to pull down your tights so I can spank your bare ass or do I have to do it? Because if I have to do it I’m going to do it how I want. ”

            Rory was in his lap again. She kissed him between crazed breaths. She squirmed against his hard on as he squeezed and released her crotch through her tights. Her whole body was pulsing and her moans were building. He could feel her pulse in her clit. Then, he took his hand away. She cried out for more.

            “Use words,” he demanded.

            “I want you to do it,” she whispered, “I want you to do it all but I can—I can-“

            She panted as he laid her on the bed and stood over her. Once again her legs were in that V and he was before them. Part of him wanted to just ravage her, but the other part of him was smarter.

            “Sorry,” he said, “What did you say? The good hearing kind of comes and goes. Something about wanting—“

            “I said…”

            A shaky breath escaped him when Rory put her foot on his raging hard on. She and flexed her foot and used his cock to message her heel. Rory grinned at Connor. For a second she knew she was the most powerful woman in the world.     

            “I want you to do it. Take it off. Take it all off. It’s a stupid outfit.”

            “I didn’t say it was a stupid—“

            “I think it’s a stupid outfit and I want you to take it all off,” she said looking at him and then away, “Then I want you to tell me what secret I’m keeping and then...Then, I want you to do what you want to me.”

            Rory breathed shakily as Connor bunched up her threaded tights in his fingers. She let out a moan, not a gasp when he ripped them off. Rory eagerly sat up. He undid her buttons. She slid out of her sleeves. When his hand moved up her smooth stomach her mouth opened in an oval. He took his other hand and cupped her face. His thumb caressed her pink pert lower lip she clamped her lips down on the tip of his thumb. The tip of her tongue was on his thumb. Her lips sucked. Another car drove by with whoosh and she didn’t even stiffen.

            Connor reached his free hand around her slim upper back and undid her gleaming white bra with the other hand. The two tiny hooks released with just the right motion. She opened her eyes and nodded and he quickly had to relax the grin on his face.

            She lifted her legs so he could slide of her skirt and panties. When her pussy was exposed and pungent as fermented vanilla and dew that proved too much for him. He had to kiss it once, lick it a few times. Once she moaned he pulled away.

            “You’re sure you want to know the secret you kept. It’s really really bad, so heinous. I mean compared to all I’ve done and seen,” Connor said with a sigh, “And it is right in front of you.”

            Rory’s high round brow furrowed. Connor wanted to smooth it back down.

            “Boy bands,” Connor said, “ I mean if I was a weaker man I’d run.”

             _Run, baby, run_ , Faith had said the night of the infamous milkshakes.

_I can’t, but thank you. I think I know who you are, thank you._

 

The kid looked normal, but he had been a demon. A demon packing a needle. They called the drug combo a Corkscrew. It was a cocktail of Heroine, Orpheus, and a fun new mystical soul-sucking drug called Iliad. How the cookers chemists loved Greek homage, but on the street all together it was just a Corkscrew.

            Connor had no idea about any of this. He had a good idea the syringe had been for him though and Rory had gotten in the way. He grabbed onto her. Her eyes were still shut.

             _I think I was in love with you. I was sure I wanted to be with you. There are fairies. They are real. I think I want to be with them now._

            “Boy bands,” Rory shook her head at him fully lucid now.

            Connor had stripped her naked by request. He was talking his time. While people were getting home from work outside Rory’s grandmother had the luxury of taking her time with the hairdresser. Sometimes other people’s luxuries did trickle down. He had delegated a lot of tasks today himself.

            Connor lay next to Rory in his dinner clothes. She was so pale and peachy it seemed like she was barer than others when she was naked.

            “Yes, boy bands on your wall,” Connor said, “One-two-three of them.”

            He pointed to the posters. Rory opened her mouth in surprise like she was seeing them for the first time. Connor was sure she had put them up just because puberty over-took her and then wasn’t here enough to take them down.

           “You told me you were a music geek since you were four. You preferred the Sargent’s Pepper Lonely album to Raffie,” Connor said.

            He kissed her. The taste of her north lips mixed with her south. Things were always spicier down south, but the north was warm and breezy. She pulled away.

            “I thought Sargent’s Pepper Lonely Hearts Club was a real band. They had a song about a sugar plum fairy,” she said, “I can explain the boy bands. They aren’t really—“

            “Did anyone ever tell you…” He kissed her warm lips again, “that you’re infuriatingly hard to stay mad at?”

            “It’s not my fault,” she said, “In a master-slave society is that you don’t get choices.”

            She reached up and ran her hand through his hair. Her eyes danced in the lamplight as she undid his pants and sprung him free inside the caged fiber of cotton briefs and Dockers.

             “Now who doesn’t get Nietzsche,” his eyes shut as her fingers swept through his hair, “It’s all about rising above the master-slave society.”

            “Yes, supermen,“ she said, “I’m not the superman here. You’re the one rising above…”

           She started to play with his cock. Connor imagined a comic book bubble over his head:  _Must-delay-gratification_.

            “Neither am I, scrubs,” he said, “I see I’m going to have to be stricter.”

            He bent down and picked up Rory’s ripped tights.

           

            “Scrubs? What? Oh, that song about not being superman on that show,” she said.

He quickly and loosely tied the tights around her wrists. When he looked up she was studying his face. She didn’t seem notice her own wrists.

           How did you—“ Rory began and looked down her bound wrists wrapped in the shrunken tights.

            “The same way I learned to suck poison-slash-drugs out of a wound in a timely manner. My kidnapping-slash-eighteen-year-camping-trip in hell with a psycho zealot.”

            “It made you the man you are.” She caressed his face with her soft, bound hands and scratchy ties. He shut his eyes. Then he opened them and smirked.

            “Yep. Too bad I’m kind of a dick.”

            Rory squealed as Connor flipped her over on his lap.

            “If you want order you get punished.”

            Her ivory peach ass was wriggled at him. All he had to do was slap it once and it was pink. All he had to do was strike her Snow White skin and she dripped with  _juices of sin_. Twice

            “No, wait. It’s not fair,” Rory said and laughed into her bedspread.

            Three times.

            “Wait!”

            Connor knew how cup his hands and still get a loud slapping sound. She squirmed on his lap giving his hard on a relieving ache. She was sob-laughing. He spanked her four times. Her  _juices of sin_  flooded his lap. She kicked her legs.

            “Connor, wait, I didn’t really-- ”

            Four and then he rubbed her little pink ass.

            “You want a way out of this?”

                       “ _There’s a way out of this_ ,” Connor had said. The demon kid hadn’t injected Rory right. The drug had bubbled up in her skin and made a huge skin swell of flesh on her pale shoulder.

            It was funny. The first memory that came to Connor in panic wasn’t being Stephen Holtz living in constant siege while being groomed as a killer. The first memory that cam was the first dirty joke he had heard Robert Reilly tell, his father from his suburban childhood: _A guy goes camping with his best friend. A snake bites him on the dick and there’s only one way to save his life. His friend has to suck the poison out. Both friends agree the bitten man had a nice life._

Connor remembered not getting it. Then, he remembered being mad when he did. Shame was a stupid reason to let someone die.

His dad looked guilty.  _You’re so noble. It’s a joke. You know, it’s okay to be gay, though, right?_ Was it okay to get your girlfriend killed like your real father? Or was Connor the one that killed his father’s girlfriends? Connor would not kill Rory. He’d have sucked a hundred dicks of poison. It might have been easier than what followed.

            “I don’t want out of anything.” Rory rolled over on his lap. It tortured his hard on.

            “I just want what’s fair.” Rory lay across his lap.

            “You know you can’t have both,” Connor said.

            “I mean. I want to explain about the boy ban—“

            “You can’t stay in an unfair situation and have fairness. It’s impossible,” Connor said. His hand traveled up her thigh. “So, that makes you my greedy little pixie who wants it all.”

            “I’m not—“ she cut herself off with a gasp when he briskly pulled her into him by her thighs.

            He positioned her so she straddled his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed.

            “I don’t want it all. I just—“ her voice shook as she grabbed his cock that was between them.

            “What do you want, baby,” he says, “Tell me.”

            “Love. This. Love,” she looked at him.

            “Oh god!” she gasped as he entered her.

            She always sounded so surprised and was always so wet and gripping. He could hear the rain as he bucked under and pitched forward to get at her clit.

            “Oh god. Oh god.” She whispered when he got his hand between them, between her legs and his fingers up around her clit.

            She rapped her arms tight around him and her ass was springing up and down as her pussy clenched him. He smacked her vigorous ass. It made her moan.

           “And you have everything you want,” he said, “And it’s all your fault, Rory Gilmore.”

            He wanted to say more but found his talking ability left him.

 

When Rory screamed in ecstasy and it sounded like nothing but heaven. Connor didn’t want her to scream in any other way again, but that was the problem with having everything. It’s everything. The bad stuff has to come around sometimes too.

                         _You don’t have to be with me, Connor. That’s your choice, but I have a right to the truth. You don’t get to choose that. But, you have another choice to make. Either tell me the truth or lie again and I’ll find out anyway. Fuck the vampires. Fuck the demons. I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about you. Why happened to you? What happened that night that made you become like that? Regardless of whatever reality you’re living in you don’t have a choice in the truth. In time it always comes out._

            It did. It came good and bad but the energy was always there. It wasn’t fair that Connor had more of his share of it, but he had to make it into something good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More sexy fun and angst coming soon.


	3. Endless Cake and Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot sexy, angry sex, love sex, angst, boy band poster destruction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now edited. Less talk more spanking and mouth work.

Endless Cake and Coffee

            Rory’s butt was warm with a sting. Her vagina still held the numb pleasure of being filled and stroked and loved. She soaked her teenage bedspread with juices foreign to it. _What does my greedy pixie want?_ She was sure he said it and Rory was sure she liked it. No, she _loved_ it. On top of everything else Rory had this to think about.

            She had absolutely no memory of saying some ridiculous thing about fairies the night she was attacked with Connor. But, since then Connor called her a pixie during their most lust crazed moments. What did it mean?

            Rory lay beside Connor in her usual post-coital glow position. There were few places Rory was happier than leaning into Connor’s chest. In truth, it reminded Rory of that night they were attacked in the diner in LA. Thinking of that fake 50s greasy spoon should terrify her, but Rory remembered nothing but the good, the heavenly sweetness, of that night.

            Connor had mentioned that he could do his job anywhere and that a family friend was going back to Boston. Rory responded by saying her belly had half of a coffee milkshake and now she had to fill the rest with something sensible. She was trying to decide between a big chocolate chip cookie or a tart. Connor had come up behind Rory while she was at the glass counter.

            Rory remembered looking at their reflection in the yellow diner mirror behind the cash register. His arms were tight around her waist.

            “ _You still haven’t told me what you think.”_ He said against her. Rory thought she loved the feeling of his voice buzzing her back of his warm breath in her ear. She even thought she loved the diner lady in pink lipstick smiling at them. Rory thought that she and Connor were the two safest and most beautiful people in the world.

            “ _I think I want the cookie but the tart has powdered sugar.”_

_“Rory, do you want me to set up in Boston to be closer to you or not?”_

            Rory thought Boston was still too far away if she lived in New Haven.

           “ _I was thinking I can do my job anywhere too, but I can’t leave my family. I was thinking of moving to Providence. They have an excellent music scene.”_

Connor’s heart had started pounding into her upper back then. Rory remembered wondering how he could come from two people that didn’t have working hearts.

            “ _You think a lot,”_ he had said calmly with his heart hammering, “ _but what do you want?”_

            These were literally the happy scenes in the horror movie before the slasher comes. In this case the slasher was some guy with a needle full of mystical drugs because that’s how they do it in West Hollywood. Rory didn’t remember. The aftermath was what was traumatizing to her; Connor’s detox. But not for Connor. He remembered the during. :

            “ _You said you wanted to be with the fairies. It was probably the most adorable way I’ve heard anyone say they had accepted their death. Don’t ever say it again. You have to fight, Rory!”_

The therapist and the books all said couple’s often split after a traumatic event because everyone experiences trauma differently. So, you are really always alone.

            “ _What does my greedy pixie want?”_ He said it right before he did the precursor cursing all guys did before they came. She shouldn’t like it though. Rory clearly remember Connor called her a _greedy pixie_ during his withdrawal from the poison. They explained he temporarily lost his soul. Rory thought that was a rather poetic way of putting it, until she learned more. Without a soul Connor had a literal god-complex.

            Rory did know other people she wished could be detoxed of their god-complex. Her old frienemy, Paris, for one. She was working her way up in a software company, or was it a consulting firm? Whatever it was Rory had grown tired of Paris’s passive aggressive Facebook comments. “ _It’s so refreshing you’re not in a relationship, Rory. This is the time we have to focus on our careers as women. I’m sure yours will take off soon.”_

            It really did seem the more impressive the achievements of a woman the less likely they were to have a family. It didn’t matter with the men, and this wasn’t about Hillary Clinton, this was in Rory’s own graduating class of first millennials.

            Rory’s grandmother said that was nonsense; a truly capable woman could have it all. She just had to work harder. Then she asked Rory about her prospects, both personal and professional. Rory last told Emily Gilmore she was seeing someone and that she was free-lance journalist now.

_“Rory, is this that young man in the Facebook photos? Well, just remember your time is limited and we’re Gilmore’s. We don’t settle being second best or being treated as such.”_

            Really, grandma would have been an excellent life coach or Barbra Walters. Rory’s mother was just an excellent Lorelei Gilmore. Mom said to grandma:

         “ _Why don’t you sit back there, Ms. Lean-In? I didn’t get married until I was thirty-six and that was when my career took off because I found an actual supportive person. And we all know how you love it when I tell my daughter to be like me.”_

 _…_ And the fun ensued. That was before everything though. The real question was what would her grandmother be like if she were… soulless? No! Under the influence.

            A low rumbling engine outside in the quiet suburb pulled Rory out of herself.  She bolted up to race to the window but remembered she was completely naked. Rory felt her face redden as she saw the remnants of the ties that had bound her wrists. Connor always ties them lose and rips her free when she pleads. Not that Rory ever needs to plea with actual words. He knows by how she cries out and offers up her binds.

            She peered to the window down to her grandmother’s driveway, and felt flooded with relief. It was just a tiny red sedan, hers, pulling out and not a Mercedes pulling in. Rory didn’t even care that it was her red sedan escaping and that she wasn’t the one in it. Did Rory say the maid could borrow her car if she needed to?     Probably. No doubt the gardener guy was with her and they were going to buy more cigarettes. She didn’t care. She was just thankful it wasn’t her grandmother coming back early. But, why were they taking her car?

            She looked up at the clock and saw the reckoning dinner with Emily Gilmore wasn’t for another hour and fifteen minutes. Half of her relief escaped from her body. It probably went out her clenched toes in the carpet. It was dusk and somehow it felt like time was slipping away too fast.

            “What are we doing? What are _they_ doing? My grandma’s maid and the gardener are leaving together. Won’t that look wrong? Isn’t there more to do?”

            Rory was annoyed at Connor languidly lounging on her bed. She strode past him to her huge L shaped desk to check her phone. The breeze of her movement chilled her naked body. She felt calmed as she reconfirmed that they had an hour and that her grandmother was still at the salon according to the phone track.

            “We are taking a break, or we were,” Connor said as he got up from her bed, “As far as what they’re doing, I don’t know, but I think you nailed it with the whole leaving together thing.”

            He walked over to her naked like it was just some lazy Sunday.

           “There’s more to do, but not right now, so it’s all good.”

            Rory gathered her clothes by the bed. Her blouse was wrinkled. She wouldn’t have tights now. These are things her grandmother would notice, used to notice, and Rory wished she would. Rory could smell various foods being prepared downstairs.

           “ _’It’s all good_?’” she said as she stepped into her skirt. Her underwear was ripped so she had to search in her old dresser. All she could find was Powerpuff girl underwear. She had to put them on and hide her ripped ones in the dresser. Why had Rory all but told Connor to rip her underwear?

            “That is what a college boyfriend says. One who lured me into having sex right before he meets my grandmother,” she continued, “The problem is we are no longer in college. No, the problem is--”

            “Lured you into sex?” Connor raised his dark eyebrow as he walked over to her again, “You had no control? If we are going to make this into a fantasy why don’t we go all the way: I ravaged you under your boy band posters you put here so you could have double life.”

            She was glad Connor was taking her cue. He jumped back into his pants. His belt buckle jingled. Rory folded her arms and rolled her eyes. What was his obsession with this room? She had seen his teenage room. She also found his Russian copies Dostoevsky. When he shrugged like it was nothing she knew she was in real serious love. Rory’s room had books too, but Connor just had to criticize her one bit of frivolity. The frustrating thing was that the frivolity wasn’t even hers.

            “Connor there was no double life,” she said, “It was all very boring. My grandmother decorated this room and I didn’t want to hurt her feelings so I left the posters up. She was…”

            Rory’s deflated into a balloon of misery. She sat on the bed in her clothes and bare legs and put her head in her hands.

            “It’s not fair,” she said.

            Connor sighed and cuddled up on the bed next to her. She buried her face in his creamy blue shirt that was still halfway open. She didn’t care about her hair or her clothes. She wanted to cry, but that would be selfish and she couldn’t look weak now. Connor might suggest that he and his team handle this on their own. Rory could never allow it, even though she knew how much they were already doing.

            “No,” Connor said, “It’s never fair. It’s never fair when these things happen to anyone, but, that’s what we do. We try to fix what isn’t fair.“

            “No, that’s what you do,” Rory sat up and looked at him.

            Connor’s eyes were big blue perfectly proportioned lidded opals. Lane was wrong. Rory and Connor looked nothing alike. Connor’s eyes gave him a kind look unless he chose otherwise. Rory’s eyes were oblong close-set marbles. She never had reason to complain about them, but she knew they made her look like a pensive cartoon princess.

          “I just tell people the unfairness they can stand to know,” Rory said to Connor’s kind eyes, “Like now, People think that boy is guilty of all of those awful things and—“

            She cut herself off. Why was she talking about her career at a time like this? Why was she bringing up Zeik Lee? Rory knew why. The connection. She just didn’t want to face it. She hoped tonight would end it.

            “Rory, I don’t have the strength for what you do. The patience you have to tell the world the truth and only have them accept it half the time, and hating you the other half. Are you getting any trolls?”

            “Not since Lane checked,” she said, “Thanks for saying I’m patient. You know, if I was really patient I’d be able to check for trolls myself without all the drama.”

            It was humiliating, but Rory’s one bad side affect of their attack in the diner had been that she couldn’t face Internet trolls on her articles without freaking out. It was the epitome of PTSD crippling someone in her field.

            “That’s not a patience issue. That’s a control issue. You’re a bit of a control freak.”

            “What?” she balked, “I am not. I have PTSD.”   

            “Bae, we all have PTSD and I’m sorry.” He stared off with misery for a moment, “But, this control thing of yours might---“

           “You’re calling _me_ controlling after the sex we just--Don’t you find it funny that--“

            Connor burst out laughing.

            “What’s so funny? Connor what?” She slapped him and rolled towards him. “Tell me now! And, don’t say control freaks are the ones that like to be the bottom during sex. Do not say it! It’s a lie control freaks tell normal people to disguise that _they’re_ the control freak. Stop laughing right now!”

            She was on top of him and he still laughed. Rory grabbed his nipples.

            “Ow! Ow. Ow,” Connor whined.

            Rory’s giddy anger gave way to annoyance. This was a man she’d seen take a punch from three hundred pound human-like hulk man and just keep shake it off. Until he made the hulk man whimper and apologize. They didn’t park in that parking lot anymore.

           “Okay,” Connor’s voice was shaky with whiney laughs, “I’ll do whatever you say relaxed go-with-the-flow-hippie. Just stop pinching me, and I’m not saying I don’t have control issues but my issues are not what’s on the table tonight. It’s just from what I see with you and your grandmother…”

            He gestured to the posters again.

            “If anything the posters prove I _don’t_ have control issues,” Rory said, “You know how much I hated top forty, but if it made my grandmother happy to give me a room with typical--”

            “It proves you’ll erase yourself just to control how other people feel about you. Just remember tonight isn’t about approval with—“

            Rory elbowed Connor in the chest with a hard thud. She blocked out his grumbles and stomped over to the pinup of Justin Timberlake and ripped it down. It tore easily and it the old ink order made her realize how old it was. Really she could be jailed for having these on her wall. Not that she spent any time here, which is what caused this mess.

            Rory didn’t even look to see where the torn paper fell. She took down the framed ninety-eight degree poster and the ‘Nscy poster. She made sure to throw them with as much reckless abandon. Rory tried to channel her inner Angela Basset with sculpted arms. She was mad enough. Her non-built arms were able to muster throwing the frames on top of each other. There was a tiny glass shatter that didn’t seem dramatic enough.

            “Happy now?” she said, “I’m not controlling! I have PTSD, and why is that? You think I’m an adorable pixie you saved that night? I’m not you, Destroyer. I’m not a god. I don’t like destroying things, but I will, if that’s what it takes to save things I love.”

            Rory finally looked at Connor and when she saw his eyes her own flooded with stinging tears. They just made her angry.

           “See, I have what it takes. I just destroyed your feelings,” she said.

            Rory was angry Connor slowly came over to her like she was some wounded client of his. They had agreed to keep their work separate, but they couldn’t now. He was silent though, which meant he was still hurt.

           “Don’t underestimate me, Connor. Maybe what you think is me being controlling was me doing what I have to do for who I love. You know, pixies were once thought to be souls of greats gods of England and they could lead people where they wanted them to go. They just got small because people stopped seeing them. So --”

            “Don’t you think I know all that!” Connor said with watery eyes.

            Rory wanted to kiss him so badly, but she wouldn’t be able to stop. Angry sex after sex was just a bad idea in any situation.

            “I love you, Connor. I don’t love you because of what you do for me or because I erase myself to get you to feel a certain way,” she said.

            But that didn’t mean Rory would back down about this.

            “Rory,” Connor shut his eyes, “I know that. How could I not know that? You’re so real with me, but—“

            “Stop saying you know things! Did you know I’m way too tall to be a pixie? Did you know I’m five seven and never wear above three-inch hills so I’m never taller than you? Did you know people once believe in pixies so much that they made places on their roofs so they could dance? Did you know they never took anything seriously, so there’s no way I could be a pixie with my reverse control freak--”

            “Rory,” Connor said with severity.

            “What?” She knew she was going off the rails and she had to calm down.

            “Pisky pow,” he said.

            “What?”

            “The place on the roof that people had so pixies could dance was called a Pisky pow.”

            She could not have angry sex right now. She would not have angry sex right now. Rory grabbed Connor’s arms and walked backwards until she hit her desk. Rory felt the firmness through her skirt as she slid up on it. Some useless object quietly toppled over. It was the Hello Kitty pencil case. But she wasn’t doing it to have angry sex.

            “Rory,” Connor said, “I realize all you do. I know you’re too good for me. Luckily, you’re too good for everyone so--”

            He held her chin. She pulled away. She grabbed the nearest thing she could find to throw. Part of it felt firm and embossed. The other party dry and papery.

            “Stop saying that I’m too good. It’s what people say when they leave me!”

            When she looked up he had her copy of Great Expectations in his hands. That was what she threw. Maybe this room was making her lose maturity. He stepped to the side of where she was sitting and emoting like a freak. Rory turned to see Connor putting a bunch of books in the corner of her room.

            “I promised I’d watch the books.” He shrugged with his shirt still half open. “And how could I leave you?”

            He put one hand on either side of Rory.

            “I’m too busy trying to get you to just stay put. You are my hyper pixie. Why do you think I have to tie you up? I’d never get you to stop doing stuff for me, and everyone else, otherwise. I’d never be able to get you to say what you want. You’d probably---”

            Rory kissed him wildly. Her teeth scraped his lip. He moaned and pushed her back on the desk. Other objects fell. Oh no. They were going to have angry sex and it was going to be Rory’s fault. She could already smell him on her skin. His snow penny smell.

            “Pixies fight,” she said. She ripped open his half buttons shirt and felt relief.

            She hadn’t realized it was driving her crazy.

            “I know that,” he said. He panted and her straddled her on top of the desk and pushed her along the hard splintery wood. He pulled out her tucked in blouse under her torso felt air and his lips.

            “Pixies,” she said in a huffy breath, “usually led people astray.”

            Connor lifted himself up so he was above her on all fours.

            “No,” he said, “Pixies lead people to magical lands. They just want you to stay with them forever.”

            He kissed her neck. She felt down to his belt buckle.

            “Pixies/fairies aren’t real. I’ve checked. I can’t find them anywhere,” she said.

            She almost felt tears of frustration again. She worked and worked at his belt but it was stuck.

            “Not in this dimension, but you are,” he said.

            “That’s cheating. Using other dimens—“ She almost had his belt bucked when he grabbed her hands.

            Before she could grunt in frustration he moved in on top of her and started to explore under her skirt. He flipped up the skirt and moved her underwear aside and worked at her with his tongue. They had snaked there way to the long part of the L-desk. It groaned in protest as she arched her hips.

            He ripped yet another pair of underware and now his whole face was in her. Rory wasn’t in control of the noises she was making. She couldn’t tell if the wood was groaning or if her skirt tore or if that was the two of them moaning. She wasn’t a very good sewer that was her mom. Rory couldn’t get off a belt.

            He picked up his head and was over her again and kissed her. He tasted musky like cooper and spicy vanilla. That was definitely the desk’s wood straining. Rory braced her hands and push him away.

            “Get off. This is going to collapse, Connor Reilly O’Connor. God of Destruction.”

            “I—“ he began and got off of her as the desk groaned.

            She stopped looking at his hurt face to jump off the desk.

            Oh,” he said, “You meant the desk. I—Oh! Shit! Fuck!”

            He started hissing because she finally just took out his cock and got on her knees and was sucking it. She willed herself not to smile with Connor’s cock filling her mouth. The rug pushed her skirt into her mid knee and burned the lower part. The desk creaked as Connor was backed up into it. He grunted and whispered and tangled his fingers in her hair. Rory thought she heard a car outside. She knew she should probably care more. They had time. It was all good. Except the desk creaking continued until Connor’s cock slapped against the outside of her mouth and there was the clatter wood on wood to the ground. Connor swore.

            “Are you okay?” she asked.

            “I’ll survive,” he said, “The desk though.”

            He swallowed a laugh and pulled Rory up. His face was cautiously amused. The top of the L desks legs collapsed making the desk look like a slide.

            “Huh,” she said, “I didn’t think that would be the weak spot.”

            “Was it Colonial?” Connor asked, “They probably just reinforced the part that you were going to use to leave it as original as possible.”

            “It’s a slide,” she grinned and ran her foot over it, “A splintery one. I want to finish.”

            “C’mere,” he said, “You’re so bad.”

            He gathered her up in his arms so fast. She felt like she was suddenly staring at the ceiling.

            “I told you,” she said, “I want finish. Let me go.”

            She felt giddy and dizzy with anticipation as he spun her in his arms.

            “You can finish, but I can’t let you go,” he said, “We made a lifelong deal. Fairies can’t break deals.”

            He plopped them down on the desk chair. It wasn’t an antique because he grandfather said she needed good back support. Rory gushed as she expected she was going to get spanked again. She kicked her calves out and back as he still gripped her thighs close to his body bound in the skirt. She kissed along his jaw.

            “So, I have to be your house fairy,” she said, “Just remember this is my house.”

            He relaxed his arms, so she sat lose in his lap. Rory knew she should be feeling bad for countless things: She was being controlling. This wasn’t really her house. She wrecked a desk that could have paid for her first car, or it could have paid to save lives. Her grandfather was dead and her grandma… but the damage was already done, wasn’t it? Things were going to be what they were, and Rory could only do what she could.

            “Always,” Connor said, “So you want to own the house. What else do you want?”

            “I want coffee,” she said as she straddled him, “I want cake. But, right now I want—“

            Rory gasped because Connor reached up her skirt, pushed her underwear aside again and was circling her spot. All her spots.

            “Is this what you want right now?” Connor said. He had a boyish voice but when it got thick it was as commanding as Pan leading an army.

            She was too occupied getting what she wanted to answer. She bent backwards at her waist and her arms found purchase on her desk. Her elbows hit some objects. She didn’t know there was anything left on the desk. . His smooth hands tilted her hips back and he stroked her. All Rory could do his yip and squeeze her legs together. She bridged her back so her butt was off his lap.

            “Is it?” he said.

            She was on the edge when she twisted her upper body to face the desk and knocked the remaining object away. The noisiest was the old Imac monitor. She pushed it to the side and it ended up going to the far end of the desk and sliding down the crashed in splintery slide. The Hello Kitty pencil holder now on it’s side rolled down that way along with and other knick-knacks.

            He came forward between her legs. Rory started to push herself back. He pulled upper half off the desk with one arm. He folded her too him.

            “Tell me,” Connor’s eyes were like two big moons, “Tell me the truth. Do you think you have to destroy things to have me?”

            Rory knew she was hormone crazed but she could very easily see how Connor could be the father of a god that people blindly obeyed. How he could be the man who destroyed that god because he wanted the truth. At this moment she didn’t get why he had to be injected with enough mystical hallucinogens to think he could control the multiverse. Connor could control Rory’s multiverse if he wanted to, but he didn’t want to, and that’s what actually made it possible for him to do it.

            ““I have to know,” he said with a pained breath.

            “No, I—“ Rory’s breath scraped her throat, “Sometimes the truth is simple. I just want you to fuck me. I want you in me right away even though I just had you.”

            The chair creaked as Connor leaned back.

            “I—I know how selfish that is,” she said, “How wrong. Maybe I am just—“

            She stopped because Connor’s mouth was on her. He pushed them off the desk with his foot and the chair rolled a half inch away from the desk. She forgot it had wheels. One arm held her high back and other her low. He titled her to slide into her slowly. She grunted in relief. It was like she had a broken bone she didn’t know about and he just set it and now he was message all soreness around it away. She put her arms around his neck and fully straddled his slim hips with him deep inside her. She was the yips coming from the slim cavern of her throat were broken. He bounced her in his lap. She felt as safe as a child at play but she was far from one.

            The pleasure Connor gave her was a gestalt. There was achieving orgasm and there was what happened with him. Orgasm wasn’t an achievement to be worked for with him. It was a journey that had a somewhat clear beginning and end but the in between couldn’t be plotted or planned. Rory had other great men, like Jess.

            But with Jess coming was a shattering. With Connor Rory’s existence wasn’t obliterated. If anything she was more Rory. This seemed like extremely un-feminist diatribe. Rory didn’t need him to be herself, but with him she was her best most comely self.

            When Rory’s pleasure journey peaked with three harder pulses. He stopped bouncing and looked at her his face was smooth and inches from her. Had he come and she was too lost in herself to know it?

            _“_ Don’t you think I know you want to have your cake and eat it too,” he said.

            That huge smile split his face open and there was light in the world.

            With that she grabbed a hold of his tongue and sucked it. He moaned and rocked his hips. Rory felt a drop in her stomach and her legs hit something soft and coarse. The rest of her thudded against Connor. He thudded deep inside of her.

            “Shit, shit, shit,” he said gripping her to him, “Are you okay? Rory?”

            Rory laughed loving everything inside of her.

            “See, you don’t know everything,” she said, “You had no idea that chair was going to roll. You don’t know I _don’t_ want my cake and to eat it too. I just want a never-ending cake, and coffee, because I’m ridiculous. Things have to end.”

            “Yeah, well, they can have a good ending,” he grinned up at her and cupped her breasts.

            He pulled off her dangling bra. They kissed and nipped at each other and fucked on the floor grunting. The way he moved under her was making them scuttle across the floor like a straight crap. It also made Connor’s cock ping on her every nerve cluster like a pinball. She was biting her lip, his shoulder, her hair, anything to keep from screaming to loud.

            “It’s okay,” he said soothingly.

            Rory thought he was saying it was okay to be loud. It wasn’t as if the staff was going to say to her grandmother: _The Irish son of the vampires was making her granddaughter scream and by the way we know there’s something wrong with you._

            “You’re a greedy little pixie,” he said.

            He slapped her backside three times to the words: “ _My-_ greedy-pixie. You deserve to get something back.”

            Connor flipped them over so he was on top. Rory felt the same relief she did when someone pointed out she had been working ten hours straight and they could take over. He slid into her again and kept right on scuttling straight. Rory loved the feeling of firm ass on her calves.

            “Oh, god, Connor,” she whispered calmly like they were in on some private joke.

            Meanwhile, what Rory felt was a horizon of ecstasy to break forth.

            “Now. Right now. Give it to me. All of it. I love you. I need all of it,” he said his voice thick.

            A storm of pleasure flooded her and she screamed. It seeped in everywhere soaking everything as she writhed against him.

            “FuckshitChrist,” he swore, “You have it all. You have my everything.”

            Then he came very loud. If anyone was here they had to know. They also had to hear the sounds of the room being wrecked. It was amazing no one called the cops. This was Hartford, not hipster, Providence. Rory’s body still tingled but her endorphins and dopamine were leaving her. Her oxytocin clung to her though and she clung to Connor. But then, Rory rolled off of Connor and looked at the mess around her. What had they done?

            “Oh. My. God,” Rory said.

            Really. What had they done? The room was destroyed. The poor L desk antique desk, not to mention the antique Imac monitor. Maybe Ninety-Eight degrees and Nscy had it coming but there could be broken glass around here…and her grandmother was probably coming back in about fifteen minutes.

            “I know,” Connor said as he propped up on his elbows.

            “That was so awesome,” Rory said.

            Her face cheeks ached from a huge sudden smile. He butt cheeks also ached from other things

            “I know,” Connor repeated.

            He looked dazed. He laid spread on the carpet with his head propped up by the bed leg.

            “Can we magically fix the room somehow?” she said.

            “I don’t think so.”

            “Oh my god.”

            Rory realized it was raining outside. That would complicate things.

            “I’m sorry,” Connor said.

            “Are you talking about the room like it was your fault?” Rory said, “I’m still talking about the being sex being phenomenal. Screw the room.”

            “I think we did.” Connor gave his beautiful boy smile.

            With all that was happening Rory knew the room didn’t matter. She was tired of pretending it did. She slid back to Connor. She realized her skirt was torn.

            “We’ll blame the maid,” Rory said.

            “I’m in.”

            “Yeah you were. I think I have rug burn. Can you say more than three words at once?”

            The Powerpuff girl underwear was bunched off to the side. Rory pulled at it.

            “I love you, Rory,” he said sleepily.

            “Great four words. I know that,” she said, “and you know I love you, and not because of what you can do, but because of who you are. The choices you’ve made. Can you choose to snap out of it? It’s almost time.”

            “Marry me,” he grinned.

            “I already said yes. That’s why we had to come here and tell her, but then…”

            Connor sighed, still looking too blissful.

            “What if I’m pregnant?” Rory asked.

            “What?” Connor’s mouth opened wide, “No.”

            He sprung up and found his pants. Rory couldn’t remember when they came off. Somewhere between the desk and the chair. He jumped into them with the buckle jingling.

            “I’m taking that thing,” Connor said, “You’re taking that thing. You’re taking that thing, right? We planned for every contingency that—“

            “Ha! I got you talking.” Rory laughed on the floor.

            He pulled her up and gently threw them both on the bed and tickled her. Rory’s laughter sounded so happy. She was happy.

            “You could get me to do anything,” Connor said as he smoothed her hair back.

            “Even not kill my family members,” she said. The heaviness returned to her.

            “Even that,” he said with his big kind eyes, “I’d even consider making another family member. How could it be an evil spawn if it’s half you?”

            “Um, Let’s not work on adding members to this dysfunction just yet. I know I’m asking so much of—“

           “Rory, you’re not. We don’t even know if anything is so wrong. Besides, if you are going to be my wife this is my family too.”

            The rain poured outside and Rory could hear people talking downstairs. It was clearly not her grandmother but the maid and the gardener, who couldn’t be much of a gardener here at night.

            “A vampire was able to come into the house, Connor. I know he’s a nice vampire, decent taste in music, and he loves you, but still, from what you’ve told me—“

            Rory sat up now. She was tired of her own mood swings even though she knew they were normal in grief and crisis or whatever this was.

            “Rory, look at me,” Connor said, “We still don’t know what’s happening. We’re here to find out. But, I’m so going to tell him you think he’s nice and he loves me. He’ll hate that.”

            “He won’t—“ Rory began.

            A phone buzzed on the bed. It was Connor’s. Rory hadn’t even thought about hers until now. She pushed it off the desk, no doubt.

            “Oh, you’ll hate this,” he said.

            He looked up from the screen.

            “What?”

            “Okay,” he said, “Remember when I said I planned for a lot of contingencies? This was one so…”

            “Connor,” Rory said, “What is it?”

            “Hello? Rory!” a female voice called.

            “No!” Rory cried, “No, this is not happening!”

            “Rory…”Whatever Connor said to her was lost as Rory temporarily curled up into a ball.

            “Rory! Hellooooo!” the voice said, “I think the maid and the Internet guy are doing it. My mother wouldn’t be upgrading Internet. All she uses is Facetime and tries to see how messy the house is? Rory?”

            “Oh. No. No. No,” Rory said as her eyes darted everywhere in panic.

“It’s my mom.”

 

 

Now it’s a party…


	4. This is no Clue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor tries to break some news to his future mother-in-law. Everyone else does too.

            Yep. It was happening. Connor wasn’t surprised. It was actually a very predictable pattern. Connor knew he would have to bust out all of his god given gifts and demon given ones today. Rory always wanted to be perfect for everyone. Connor just hoped Rory wasn’t crying in the shower. He made sure he hustled down the hall while he calmly texted the witch:

            _We need more time, Big L showed up._

The witch typed back _….._

            BSW: _….. And this surprises you? I told you to be more careful. Lots of energy in Waspland tonight, LB._

            Connor knew he was way luckier than he should be to have the witch too, but he shook his head, and texted her back.

            _Just stall Grandma V, ok? Remember I pay you, but this isn’t just a job for me. It’s everything._

            BSW: …. _Yes, sir. If this is just a job than I want to get paid more and where are my benefits?_

Connor: _You have the never-ending benefit of me never telling anyone what a dork you are._

BSW: …. _I’m the dork?_

Connor: _Three words: The Click Five_

BSW: …. _I deny everything._

Connor: _Bye._

            He felt himself smile as he pocketed his phone. It turned out Boy Band blackmail was useful everywhere. Connor made it halfway down the stairs before he was face to face with one of the most insidiously powerful women on the Eastern hemisphere.

            “Lorelei,” he said.

            Connor’s voice came out flat and severe. He should have known she’d be this close already.

            “Connor,” she mocked his tone with perfect parroting.

            Her high strong brow and cool blue almond eyes gave her that femme fetal beauty.

            “Do I sound that rude?” he said and smiled, “Sorry, you surprised me is all.”

            They went down the stairs together. She walked into the foyer and Connor had no choice but to follow. She sat on the Victorian couch and Connor sat across from her in the other one.

            “Yeah, imagine how I feel,” Lorelei said as the maid in a uniform handed her a drink, “Oh my stars. The guy who’s sleeping with my daughter is in my mother’s house in his socks.”

            There was a snort. It came from the maid. Connor glowered at her just long enough to notice she had a slight split lip and round amber eyes. The Internet wiring guy came in humming with a huge duffel bag of tools. He was a slim sharp-faced man with lean muscled arms. Connor couldn’t help but think this guy was the type that people often underestimated in a fight. He said something to the maid about having to find the wall ducts. When the maid bent over to move an end table the Internet guy looked straight at her ass.

            “Where’s Rory? And please, tell me why you’re in her father’s old shirt?” Lorelei voice swung up with false cheer.

            The woman was tenacious. Her eyes were like beams that demanded contact and information. Connor knew it was best to give it to her. He looked at Lorelei and smiled.

            “She’s in the shower,” he said, “We were redecorating her room and my shirt got caught on a nail, so—Her father’s shirt?”

            Connor looked down. He was wearing a Cocteau Twin tour shirt. It was from the Treasure tour, 1984. Rory ripped Connor’s button down in a their fit of passion that she wanted and needed. When her mother showed up Connor needed to get down here as fast as possible. This shirt was the only think in Rory’s old bedroom that fit him. Damn it!

            “Yeah,” Lorelei said, “You didn’t know? So, you came here just to have crazy sex when my mother wasn’t here? I hope it wasn’t for the shirt with Rory calling you daddy.”

            “Only on Tuesdays,” Connor said but then he felt his face flush, “Lorelei—I—Um—We--“

            Damn it, damn it, damn it. Connor was one of the best at deflecting awkwardness with levity. He could defeat his father with it in seconds, but he was no match for Lorelei Gilmore.

            “Oh, you’re blushing again, but you try so hard.”

            Both the maid and the cable guy murmured amusement in the far corner of the room. Were they just pretending to look for wall ducts? Note for later: kill the cable guy; yell at the maid.

            “I do,” Connor said to Lorelei, “I love Rory.”

            “I know,” Lorelei crossed her long legs, “But that won’t get you out of this. Now, tell me honestly, how bad do you think I screwed up my kid that she would try to hide the fact that she was coming here with you?”

            “Lorelei,” Connor leaned forward, “I’ll tell you honestly Rory is perfect. Whatever you did with her, you should patent it because people are just going to try to steal it to make their own Rory.”

            “Isn’t he the best ass kisser you’ve ever met?” Lorelei asked the maid who was pouring her another drink from the crystal decanter.

            “I don’t even have an opinion, ma’am,” the maid said.

            Connor glowered at the maid again. The cable guy began drilling into the wall.

            “I cannot believe my mother gave someone permission to drill into the wall,” Lorelei said over the drill.

            “Uh,” the maid looked from Connor to Lorelei, “It’s—She did, ma’am. I, um—She wanted the new Internet deal around here.”

            “It’s a great bundle,” the guy called over. He didn’t turn away from the wall as he went grab a tool from the huge bag. The sound of metal clanging from the bag made Connor wince.

            “You get security, information, entertainment, and if you sold out to another company, we can get you back, reel you in with a special deal if--”

            “Thank you,” Connor said, “Thank you, so much, for informing us of that.”

            “So, who sold my mother on this bundle?” Lorelei said, “and how do the three of you know each other?

            “What?” Connor said. He wouldn’t panic. He faced down demons. He had conned the most powerful con artists. He wasn’t going to be taken down by his future mother-in-law.

            “No, we were just talkin’ before about music an’ stuff,” the maid said.

            Connor was relieved the maid stepped in. He was distracted because he heard the shower turn off. He knew Rory was getting out naked, wet, and agitated. He pale skin only makes her eyes more blue and hair darker.

            “You know, platonically,” the maid said, “Rory too.”

            Note to self: Maybe smack the maid.

            “Platonically,” Lorelei said, “That’s an interesting choice of words.”

            “You think I don’t know big words?” she said.

            Connor groaned.

            “Molly Maid,” the cable guy called with mock-sweetness, “Can I see you for a moment? I need to talk to you about what the lady of the house wants.”

            The maid went deeper into Emily Gilmore’s home.

            “What’s going on?” Lorelei said and then whispered, “Are you helping them or something? Rory would help anyone. That woman has a split lip. He’s not the one beating on he, is he? And why is there a couple in Rory’s car?”

            As the rain increased outside it took a moment for Connor to put her logic together.

            “Lorelei,” Connor said, “Trust me. No.”

            Then he still had to put together some of his own. He had no idea why the maid would have a split lip. It was a matter of concern. It was probably the number ten concern on a list of eleven concern items right now.

            “There’s a couple in Rory’s car? A couple of what?”

            “People,” Lorelei whispered, “I didn’t get a good look at them, but two people. Big guy and a little girl.“

            What? Connor took out his phone and waggled it.

            “Excuse me, Lorelei. I gotta take this. Work, but, we’ll figure this out,” Connor said.

            He jumped up and shut his eyes with dismay as he moved.

            “And soon,” Lorelei called after him, “My mom has been in a good mood lately, but now she’s been waylaid by a flat tire, and no amount of Xanax would make her happy about Sid and Nancy.”

            He couldn’t believe he had done the non-ringing phone trick. Connor briskly moved into the living room where _Sid and Nancy_ had retreated.

            ”Why are there two people in Rory’s car? The hell, guys?“ He demanded, “Can you not sit on the table? You look like the maid in Clue.”

            With The dark Victorian décor and the maid sitting on an end table Connor feel like he was trapped in the Clue movie.

            “I’m holding the wire for him. It’s long,” she said

            “This isn’t going to lead anywhere good,” the wiring guy said. He held a thick black wire up from the coil the maid held.

            “This wire, I mean,” he continued, “I can’t just snake it to go where you want it to go. I’d have to force it. So, maybe tonight isn’t the night.”

            “It has to be tonight, as much as I love your mad subtly skills,” the maid said. Her arms were folded over her rumpled French maid uniform.

            Connor had a million things to ask and mandate. He also knew Rory was coming down the stairs. He also didn’t need any super senses to know Lorelei was right on his heels.

            “Short phone call, Connor?” Lorelei said as she entered the room.

            “I’m just the cable guy. I don’t have to be subtle, serving wench,” the wiring guy said to the maid.

            “Look, buddy,” Lorelei said, “I have no idea who you are or what’s going on here, but we do not disrespect women in this house.”

            “Right,” he said, “You just have scullery maids you ignore.”

            “Scullery maids?” Lorelei balked, “Do all Brits really talk like Downtown Abbey?”

            “Hey, Internet guy,” Connor said through gritted teeth, “We…“

            Connor could feel Rory come into the room. He turned to her and wasn’t prepared for what he saw.

            “Mom,” Rory said, “Stop. Listen, you have to give me some space right now and I’ll explain later.“

            Lorelei Gilmore burst out laughing at the sight of her daughter. She was wearing something that looked like an old school uniform. It was a blue plaid skirt. She brightened the dark oak walls and neutral tones of the room. Connor quickly realized it was her old school uniform. They had torn her clothes. Damn it. Connor could handle this.

            “Okay,” Lorelei said as she tamed her laughter, “Whatever party this is I have to be invited. You look so cute.”

            “Mom,” Rory stood with her arms folded, “You have to leave. Now.”

            “You do look cute,” Connor said and quickly squashed his smile, “Rory, let’s just talk. I’m sure if you were in Lorelei’s position you’d be upset.”

            “Yeah, Rory,” Lorelei said, “You’re not the one who gets to be mad here. What the hell is going on? Because the only things I can come up with involve orgies or blackmail.”

            “No, mom,” Rory said, “I do get to be mad. I get to be mad a lot. You found out I was here and you just had to show up. You couldn’t just give me space with grandma so I could tell her about Connor.”

            “Oh,” Lorelei said, “Okay, I get it now. Sorry. These people are blackmailing you _and_ there’s an orgy. Blink at me in Morse code if I’m right. I swear, I’m going to call the cops. These people are shady AF, as all the kids say.”

            Behind Rory the maid’s eyes widened as if hurt for a moment. The wiring guy walked over to her. Then the maid laughed and whispered something to the wiring guy. Connor’s gaze quickly snapped back to Rory.

            “One thing out of place in the world _you_ grew up in and it’s shady,” Rory said to Lorelei with her mouth set.

            “One thing out of place, try seven.”

            Lorelei looked at Rory’s severe face. Connor moved to Rory’s side as Lorelei continued. Her tone stiffened.

            “I didn’t know you were here, Rory. Mom has been flaking out on her D.A.R. meetings and the inn is supposed be holding a gala for them. I knew she was out. I thought it would be a perfect time to slip in and have a few drinks before I actually had to talk to her; and I find you here with Connor playing the only sane person in this little play.”

            The maid crossed the room to go to the door, with the Internet guy in toe in his tight black shirt. She had her phone in her hand.

            “Rich people problems,” the maid muttered.

            “Faith,” Connor turned to her and hissed.

            “I know, right,” Lorelei said, “Faith? Is that your actual name, or did Connor just have some religious epiphany?”

            There was a beat of silence as the windows rattled with wind.

            “I agree, Faith,” Lorelei continued, “Most rich people problems are stupid. But, imagine having to live always worried about being taken advantage for what you have, even though you never asked for it.”

            “Actually—“ Faith began.

            “Mom,” Rory said, “If you must know, these people are Connor’s family and they’re here to _help_ grandma. So--”

            “Is this that ghost hunter thing he does?” Lorelei said.

            “Look, legs,” Spike said, “All you gotta know is we’ve been at this game a long time and if you just let us do our job it’ll all be okay.”

            “Really, dated haircut?” Lorelei said as she walked right up to him, “Thanks. I feel so much better now. So, I guess I’ll be on my way to leave you with my rich old mother and only daughter.”

            Faith laughed. “Dated?” Spike said.

            “Maybe if you don’t want to be called ‘dated,’ don’t refer to women as ‘legs,” Connor said.

            “I’m not a child,” Rory said to her mother.

            “Well, Ror,” Lorelei said, “The high school throwback outfit isn’t helping your case but—“

            “In fact, maybe I’m less of one than you are,” Rory talked over her, “I’ve made better decisions. I think that if you didn’t see that you’d at least trust me and do what I ask and leave.”

            “Rory,” Connor warned.

            “Girl’s got a point,” Faith said to Lorelei, “How many drinks have you had? Tellin’ it like it is, moms get hurt.”

            “I agree. All our mums are dead,” Spike said, “Also, punk never really goes out of style.”

            “I have one live mom left, due to dad’s connections.” Connor said this lightly.

            He turned to Lorelei. “Sorry. You know how it is when you hire family.” He turned back to his two employees. “Thanks, Spike, Faith, why don’t you guys go be somewhere else now?”

            “Spike,” Lorelei snorted.

            She sat down on yet another stiff looking sofa. This one was red velvet.

            “Sure thing, boss,” Faith said to Connor, “There’s that thing we gotta take of anyway.”

            She walked over and patted Connor’s shoulder and started towards the door with Spike. Spike was looking down at his phone.

            “But just so you know, little brother Corleone,” Spike turned to Connor, “Hermione can’t hold off The Dragon Lady much longer.”

            “I’m aware,” Connor said.

            “Dragon Lady?”

            Lorelei’s eyes snapped to Spike as he began exited the room.

            “You must mean my mother,” Lorelei said, “Why is she not some vulnerable idiot mother trope in this situation? By the way, you have more time. I just texted her that Rory came here without a raincoat, so I’m going to bring her one I bought for her with monkeys on it, so now she’s going to Nordstrom’s to get Rory an ‘actual wearable coat’ to spite me. So, who’s the stupid mom now?”

            Spike looked up from his phone, impressed.

            “Is the monkey raincoat—“ Connor was just trying to keep up.

            “Mom, this isn’t a contest. For the last time you have to go,” Rory said.

            Lorelei stretched out her arms over the top of the couch frame and crossed her legs in her pencil skirt. Connor couldn’t help but notice it looked like a risker version of Rory’s he had torn. She wasn’t going anywhere.

            “Rory,” Connor said with a thick sigh, “You know she can’t. Would you just leave if you--”

            “What?” Rory said and backed up towards a bookshelf, “How can you say that? How can you take her side?”

            Connor walked over to her.

            “Rory,” he said to her quietly, “Do you really want me to forcibly remove her? Because that’s what it’s going to take.”

            He wished he could take Rory into his arms. Spike was still in the doorway furiously texting. Faith looked at his screen. It was an odd site. The witch was probably just texting Spike so Connor could deal with all the emotional variables. He did prefer it when the emotional variable was sexual comfort with Rory.

            “Would you leave your daughter with a guy named ‘Spike’ even if she was thirty?” Lorelei said, “Would you leave your mother—“

            An objection started from Rory but someone spoke over it.

            “My mom is dead! Spike already told you that. What he didn’t tell you is how---, ” Faith came halfway back in the room and stopped herself, “Back then, no, I wouldn’t have wanted to leave her with Spike, like I’d have choice.”

            Spike was in the doorway his watch on Faith. Intensely sussing up what is going on with her. Connor’s phone buzzed. He checked it and it wasn’t the witch but a call from his father. So, he turned it off.

           “But, some things actually change for the better,” Faith continued, “and these men are probably the only people I’d leave—“

            “You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?” Rory yelled at Connor.

            “No,” Connor said, “I am as surprised as anyone that Faith was going to take this so personally and—“

            “Not that,” Rory said, “I’m glad someone is trying to get through to her. I mean you _knew_ my mother was going to show up and you had every intention of letting her stay!”

            “It’s not about knowing,” he said, “It’s about observing patters and—“

            “Oh, shut up!” Rory said.

            “Your lucky,” Faith said to Lorelei, “Your kid loves you so much she’d do anything to protect you, and your mom. She’d even let you hate her. She’s not so bad, you know?”

            Faith slowly walked backwards towards the doorway.

            “Your mom, I mean,” Faith said to Lorelei, “She just wants things how she wants them. And, no matter where you’re from, if you’re a woman wanting stuff someone is going to call you a bitch. They’re gonna tell you you’re evil. The trouble is when no one thinks you’re vulnerable, least of all you, and you start listening to the wrong people.”

            Faith successfully backed out of the living room with Spike. He heard them go out the front door.

            “Okay,” Lorelei said, “Clearly this is something very wrong with my mom if Billy Idol’s girlfriend can stand her. So, since my daughter has made better decisions than me and has now seemed to have given all the decisions over to you, Connor--”

            “Faith is not just someone’s girlfriend and neither am I!” Rory snapped.

            “Good to know,” Lorelei said, “That’s the first thing you’ve told me no tell me why I shouldn’t be punching your boyfriend in his cute yet punch-able face right now?”

            “Mom!”

            He should leave now and let them talk.

            “It’s ok,” Connor said, “I’ve heard it before. I’ll--”

            “Not surprising,” Lorelei said.

            “Don’t you go anywhere!” Rory demanded and hooked onto Connor’s arm, “Mom-“

            “Also,” Lorelei pointed at Connor, “explain how some Brit is calling him ‘little brother’ and he’s saying they’re ‘family’ when I Facebook with his parents from Burbank.”

            “Fiancée,” Rory said, “and did you ever think it’s all true? Did you ever think he’s a tech guy that went to Stanford that’s a Ghostbuster with two families? Did you ever think people don’t live in these small boxes?”

            She squeezed his arm hard. This wasn’t how they should be telling her mother this.

            “Rory, this isn’t—“ Connor began.

            “Fiancée?” Lorelei sat forward as if pushed, “You’re going to tell me about how people don’t live in boxes? I broke down all boxes for you. I invented living out of boxes. There was no box that could— Fiancée?”

            “Okay, so, first—“ Connor tried.

            “Yes!” Rory released her arm grip on him, “How could you not know that? You were the one who told me I liked him when I thought I hated him and just had sex with him for my late bloomer wild phase.”

            Connor considered what would happen if he just left the room for a minute. He heard Spike and Faith come back in whispering. He could say it was emergency business.

            “So now I’m supposed to physically know you got engaged?” Lorelei said.

            “No!” Rory shouted, “But, you were supposed to know how much I love him. You were supposed to know how good that made him. How special. You were supposed to know that something is wrong, very wrong if I’m keeping these things from you and that the wrong things have nothing to do with him or me, but grandma.”

            “But, don’t—“ Connor began.

            “Rory,” Lorelei said, “Is that Faith girl right? Are you trying to reverse Bette Midler Stella me out of this house because—Is my mother a vampire? Are you really engaged?”

            Rory rose and went to stand in front of her mother. They were hugging and crying.

            “No, Rory’s grandma is not a vampire. Yes, we’re engaged. but, I don’t know who Bette Midler Stella is?” Connor said.

            Did Connor just get out some sentences? They were still hugging and crying. Connor felt like a stupid kid that just came into this dimension. Where were his hard won social skills?

            “I should—“ he began and then Rory pulled him into a group hug, “Oh, okay---“

            “Stella is a movie where the lower class mum makes the kid hate her so she can marry well and not feel bad for abandoning her.” Spike was leaning in the doorway.

            Connor gently pulled away from the Gilmore Girl group hug.

            “Huh,” Connor said, “The eighties were screwed up. Why are you in here?”

            He walked over to Spike. Faith was lurking in the doorway behind him damp from rain in her black coat and maid uniform.

            “It was a remake,” Rory said.

            Connor turned to see her wiping her eyes next to her mother on the couch.

            “But, still screwed up all the same,” Lorelei said.

            “I might do it,” Faith said, “if it was better for the kid. Sorry, hi, we gotta talk to you.”

            She was in the room now. She nervously licked her lips

            “And you’d be stupid,“ Spike said not looking up from his phone, “I grew up in the most class rigid place imaginable and I’d rather be caste out than lose my mum.”

            “What’s wrong? Is it—“ Connor began.

            “The witch is fine. Emily is fine. Spike is a self involved asshole,” Faith said, “I was talking about what was best for the kid not what your mama’s boy ass wanted, and if you think London is more _classy_ than Boston you know nothing.”

            “I think Boston, and all of this here, New England, is nothing more than England’s jealous little sister,” he looked up from his phone at Faith.

            “Are they always like this?” Lorelei asked from the couch with Rory.

            “They’re smart and fun,” Rory said, “Like a gothy Liz and Richard.”

            “Yeah they’re great. What’s messed up in the plan?” Connor said.

            “Fun anyway,” Faith said, “What makes you think we’re together?”

            “Oh,” Rory said, “They don’t like to admit they’re together. Like it will curse it or something.”

            Lorelei mimed zipping her mouth shut and throwing away the key.

            “Hello? What’s messed up in the plan?” Connor demanded.

            He wished he could start handing out Ritalin.

            “Is the plan making my seventy year old mother a secret agent vampire for your good guy cause, like him?” Lorelei said.

            “No,” Connor said, “She’s not—“

            “C’mon you’re punk,” Lorelei said to Spike’s surprised expression, “You’re name is Spike. Your girl’s in a maid’s outfit and you can’t take your eyes off her. You might as well have The Lost Boy face out if you’re hiding it on my account.”

            “Mom, it’s not—not like that,” Rory blushed.

            Connor heard bones shifting and turned to see Spike had turned to his vampire face. Faith texted. Lorelei slowly slid off the couch towards Spike.

            “He’s just doing it to make you happy now,” Rory said to Lorelei, “You don’t have to do that, Spike, and don’t even think about asking to touch it mom.”

            “Who do I look like? Racist aunt Betty?” Lorelei balked and moved back her outstretched hand.

            “What’s messed up with the plan?“ Connor asked again. He looked at Faith texting.

            “What is the plan? And why is it messed up?” Lorelei asked.

            “Messed up is probably the wrong word,” Connor assured as he sat down on the couch next to Rory, “We try to predict the risk factor of most contingencies. So what’s--”

            “He does,” Faith gestured to Connor phone in hand, “Not me. He’s the Nate Silver of demon hunting along with being an action hero.”

            “He did have the best life and opportunities dad could pay for,” Spike said.

            “This is your real job?” Lorelei said, “I like it better than the egghead AP thing, which probably pays better.”

            “They’re not mutually exclusive at all,” Rory said.

            “Trying to keep your two lives separate is so 2009,” Faith said.

            “I’ve only ever really had one at a time,” Spike said.

            “Yeah, yeah,” she said, “You’re the most well-adjusted murderer I know.”

            Connor learned forward on the couch and groaned. “Let’s not mention our murderous pasts in front of my future-mother-in-law.”

            “Don’t worry,” Rory said to Lorelei, “He couldn’t help it before.”

            “Sure, sure,” Lorelei said, “I’m sure there’s like a vampire thrall or something. But, can’t I ask something? And don’t get mad. I promise that no matter what I’ll love and accept--”

            “I’m not a vampire,” Connor said, “Spike and I aren’t really brothers.”

            “Oh, thank God,” Lorelei put her hand to her chest, “I mean it seems really cool when you’re fifteen. You imagine you’re Jamie Getz in that great dress.”

            “That is a great dress. I’m usually not into white, “Faith said,” But Con—

            “Yeah, but then you remember how they treated her,” Lorelei looked at Faith, “and…I mean, no offense. I’m sure it’s great for you, but it’s not for Rory.”

            “It’s working out, but—“ Faith said, “Wait. You think I’m a vampire too?”

            “The important thing is,” Connor said, “We’re all family and we can all do this together.”

            Connor relaxed. He did realize that if Rory and Lorelei had each other nothing wouldn’t rattle them for long.

            “Cool,” Faith said, “’Cause there’s a little glitch in the sitch.”

            “Ok,” Connor turned to Rory and Lorelei, “So, these things happen and we have contingencies.”

            Spike sighed and stood up straight.

            “Now be calm,” Spike said.

            “They are calm,” Connor says, “In fact, they’re, like, the calmest I’ve seen anyone in this situation right now. Why—“

            “I’m not talking to them,” Spike looked at Connor, “In fact, this might help them, if you just stay---“

            “What do you mean you’re not—“ Connor stood up, “Why are you telling me to stay calm?”

            That’s when Connor heard it, _felt_ it, the shift outside in the storm.

            “Ha,” Lorelei said, “See how much it sucks.”

            He couldn’t believe it. He thought his instincts had to be wrong.

            “I didn’t tell you to be calm,” Connor said to Lorelei, “I’d never tell you to be-“

            There was a crash of the front door opening and the sound of rain outside.

            “Connor,” a male voice said, “We need your help.”

            “---calm,” Connor finished and then began, “No. No. No.”

            “Oh my god!” Rory said and Connor instantly shielded her from the lumbering wet man.

            “You can tell me to be calm now,” Lorelei said.

            “No! You have to go,” Connor said in a fighting pose, “Get out! Now!”

            “Please,” Lorelei said, “Someone tell me to be cal—“

            “You can be calm,” Spike said, “It’s just dad but--”

            Spike walked up to what, or whom, the wet man held half-limp in his arms.

            “No, it’s chaos,” Connor said, “I cannot do this right now. I can’t even—“

            “Connor,” Rory was in front of him. His perfect Rory he never wanted anywhere near this, “Who is this?”

            Just seeing her calmed him, but then seeing who was in front of him angered him.

            “It’s my birth father,” Connor said, “Angel.”

            “Does he usually carry around unconscious women?” Connor didn’t even know if Lorelei or Rory had asked.

            “C’mon, Slayer,” Spike said, “Ya know I hate when you do this. This is no longer a fun reunion.”

            “Well, he can, but that’s not--” Faith answered as she wrung her hands.

            “It’s Buffy,” Connor felt his lip go up, “She’s the chaos. I want her out of here now, dad. Out.”

           

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's it going so far?

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: These characters aren’t mine. I’m not doing this for any profit. Those the actors who played these parts got married in RL this has nothing to do with them. I tend to like the characters no one else does and I like putting them together. Hope you Enjoyed.  
> *This chapter gets sexy at the end and then things will pick up. If you want make suggestions. I may listen.


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